


Say No To This

by ForLoveOfLiberTea



Series: the helpless duology [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha America (Hetalia), Alpha Canada (Hetalia), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Omega England (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 20:05:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15251046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForLoveOfLiberTea/pseuds/ForLoveOfLiberTea
Summary: He wants more, heneedsmore, more,more—so,somuch more than this.But then again, he can’t have them.





	Say No To This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alifeasvivid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alifeasvivid/gifts), [gallifreyanlibertea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyanlibertea/gifts).



> This is so, so late, and I'm so sorry. XD This is dedicated to Sonder-san and Mana-senpai, because this was originally planned to be the first of two birthday gifts I'll be giving them. These two fics (which comprise the 'helpless' duology) are actually supposed to be my Canada Day and Fourth of July fics. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this, anyway!

There’s nothing like summer in the outskirts of New Haven.

The seemingly limitless skies are painted with that clear sunny blue, towering buildings slowly diminishing the farther one travels towards the ocean. Quaint villas are spaced intermittently apart from one another, as if shyly edging closer to the azure waves, but ultimately stopping altogether before the wooden steps of the closest edifice even dare to touch the sand.

He stands there, sinking his toes into the fine sand as the glare of the infuriatingly bright summer sun blinds him with its grandeur. With a soft huff, he turns away, making his way back to the Jones summer home perched precariously near the cliff overlooking the bright New Haven sea. 

Arthur tugs at the neckline of his shirt, stomping his feet upon the pathway in a vain attempt to dislodge the remains of the sand from his flip-flops. He makes his way up the rickety wooden steps and onto the porch, raising his gaze to meet a pair of knowing violet eyes.

Matthew offers him an uncomfortable grimace, and immediately, Arthur moves to head into the villa. He knows what it means, of course.

This isn’t the first time this has happened, after all.

The omega walks forward, a sense of calm taking hold of his mental faculties, as if he were a criminal being sent to his execution. He offers a small, apologetic smile to his friend, even as the young alpha seems to be fighting back the urge to grab hold of his wrist and pull him back, to do anything that may somehow delay the inevitable.

But Matthew knows that he can’t interfere—the fading marks on his wrists and the bruises upon his side from his twin brother’s last rampage reminds him of what may very well happen again. And Arthur simply can’t let history repeat itself.

And so he walks through the empty grandiose halls of the villa, past the living room and the polished staircase leading up to the second floor, which holds the bedrooms. Arthur trails his fingers along the bannister, humming a soft song beneath his breath—a melody from long, long ago.

 _“‘I lift up my head and the world is on fire, there’s dread in my heart and fear in my bones—’”_ He looks up just as he’s pulled into strong, muscular arms, and he’s caught within his gilded cage once more.

_“‘And I just don't know what to say..’”_

Arthur closes his eyes and breathes in the familiar poison of his scent as those lips fall upon his own, pulling him into the clutches of sweet temptation. He lets himself be backed against the wall, his grasp upon the bannister falling away as he grows pliant beneath the alpha’s possessive fingers.

“Arthur,” Alfred murmurs his name in a soft, desperate plea—an unspoken promise lingering upon the tip of his tongue, heralding the beginning of a breathless litany. He leans even closer, pressing himself flush against the omega as his hands skate downward, tracing every curve before they come to a rest upon the flare of his hips, pulling the hem of his shirt up and out of the waistband of his shorts. _“I need you…”_

 _I know,_ Arthur wants to say in return, his reply lost in the middle of a sudden gasp as the alpha slides his hands to cup him through the material of his shorts, bringing their hips close together. He bites back the urge to whimper, instead tipping his head to the side and offering the yet-unmarked swathe of his pale neck. 

Alfred wastes no time in pressing a series of open-mouthed kisses upon the bared flesh, leaving the omega trembling within his grasp. He reaches up, winding his fingers through those sandy blond locks as he rolls his hips forward, bringing the omega’s attention to the burgeoning arousal barely contained within his jeans. 

“A-Alfred,” Arthur hisses as those hands begin to thumb at the button of his shorts. He grits his teeth, resisting the urge to moan as the alpha grins, pressing a kiss to the edge of his jaw. “S- _stop..”_

“I don’t want to,” he returns evenly, a devious smirk curling his lips. With a flick of his wrist, his shorts are unbuttoned, those mischievous fingers continuing to toy with the zipper, pulling it down devastatingly slowly. 

His breath hitches in his throat, and Arthur very nearly keens desperately, instead choosing to bestow a dangerous glare upon his ‘lover’. “You’re not taking me against a bloody wall, you arsehole,” he snarls, clutching at the back of the alpha’s shirt with trembling fingers.

“Why not?” The bastard even has the gall to grin wickedly, Arthur internally grumbles, a yelp escaping his lips as a hand palms him through his underwear. Alfred offers a slight, seemingly innocent smile, bright blue eyes glinting with a knowing light. “You didn’t complain the last time we were together.”

“I didn't complain because unlike _this_ very moment," Arthur rolled his eyes, reaching to grab hold of the alpha's collar, pulling him close enough that he could see every freckle dusting those tanned cheeks, "that had been in relative privacy, as opposed to your current plan, which apparently entails fucking me against the wall near the goddamned stairs."

A knowing grin is all he gets in response, and the omega finds himself pulled up and into the alpha’s arms, carried unceremoniously through the open doorway to his bedroom, before he shuts the door by way of his foot. It creaks, hinges shrieking mildly in protest, before it finally swings securely shut, ensuring most of their privacy.

Arthur barely even manages to tighten his grasp upon Alfred’s shoulders before he’s being laid down onto the mattress, the alpha hovering above him with the same look in his eyes he’s seen before. He reaches for him, hands curling round the back of Alfred’s head as Arthur lifts himself up for a kiss so bittersweet and yet so sinful. A nearly inaudible whimper leaves his lips, swallowed deep into a mouth intent upon devouring each and every noise coerced from the depths of Arthur’s desire. 

“Al—” he gasps, moaning softly as his shorts are slid down his legs, left forgotten near the foot of his bed and joined shortly thereafter by his boxers. He shivers, pressing himself flush against the alpha’s torso as a hand wanders beneath his shirt, ghosting over his perked nipples. _“Al—please—”_

He feels the way his lips curl into a smirk against his skin, breath fanning over the length of his neck as Alfred’s hand wanders downward once more, thumbing at the buttons of his shirt. It isn’t long before the button-up falls open, leaving him vulnerable to the alpha’s scrutiny. Judging from the curve of the grin dancing upon his lips, the harsh bite of teeth against the junction of his neck and shoulder, and the whispered words breathed upon his flesh, Alfred is more than pleased with the sight.

Arthur keens breathlessly beneath him in return, shifting his hips in search of more than this, more than the simplest of touches of fingertips and lips caressing his skin. He wants more, he _needs_ more, more, _more_ —so, _so_ much more than this.

But then again, he can’t have them.

“Daydreaming even when there’s so much to feel right here, princess?” His breath hitches in his throat as cool fingers caress him down there, already slick with lubricant—perhaps conjured with magic, perhaps Alfred had moved and gotten it somewhere, but Arthur really couldn’t care less. A slick fingertip prodded at his entrance, circling round and barely pushing in before retreating. 

Arthur manages a brief scoff in reply—though it sounds more of a stifled moan of delight at the touch. “You’ve yet to show me anything worthwhile,” he quips, biting back a yelp as the first finger slides inside. 

Its sojourn within him is brief, sending sparks of sheer want coursing through his limbs with every twist and curl inside, before it’s soon joined by a second, and then a third comrade. Their combined efforts leave him gasping for air, futilely stifling his desperate cries as they repeatedly press and stroke against a certain bundle of nerves that has him arching his back and screaming the alpha’s name. 

A tell-tale grin adorns Alfred’s features as he pulls out his fingers, the omega left panting breathlessly upon the sheets. He laughs, carelessly lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side, his hands wandering down to his jeans and freeing his aching cock from its confines.

“Still think having sex with me isn’t worthwhile, babe?” 

A devious quirk of his lips, a flash of carnal hunger in his gaze, and Alfred pulls the omega up and into his arms, Arthur’s legs wound tight against his hips as the jut of his cock pressed against the warmth of his inner thighs. Arthur merely inclines his head, a coy smile playing at his lips as he teasingly shifts his hips to grind his slick entrance against the alpha’s evident arousal in response.

Such an action earns him a harsh, possessive growl, the subsequent bite to the curve of his shoulder drawing a gasp from his kiss-stained lips. A moan bubbles deep in Arthur’s throat, wanton and wanting as he drags blunt fingernails down the length of the alpha’s shoulder blades in an evident demand. 

“I can’t—” a gasp and yet another growl, before he feels the sting of teeth nipping at his lips just as Arthur slams his hips down, taking the entirety of the alpha’s cock into himself with a loud, breathless cry. He clutches onto Alfred’s shoulders, evergreen eyes filling with tears of painful pleasure as the younger man covers him in marks and kisses to his neck and shoulder, whispering words of meaningless praise. 

“You’re so good to me, babe,” Alfred hisses in his ear, hands cupping the curve of the omega’s waist as he tentatively rolls his hips, burying himself just a little deeper into that tight, wet heat, earning a choked gasp from the other man. “So, so fucking _good_ —I can’t get enough.”

Arthur grasps onto the tanned expanse of the heir’s shoulders, digging his nails into flesh as he musters a small, smug smirk in reply. “You’re _never_ satisfied, _darling,”_ he breathes mockingly against the alpha’s lips just as he begins a rough, unforgiving pace. 

Breathless gasps and cries for more tumble free from his lips as he reaches up, tangling his fingers into golden locks as he pulls him into a kiss, messy and possessing none of the finesse the alpha harbored whenever they kissed.

It was horrid, it was sloppy—just a clash of lips and teeth and tongue and breath, and yet it was so, so damn _good._

Arthur moans, his cries devoured by a hungry mouth which steals his breath away with every kiss. He scrabbles for any form of stability, finding a fragile anchor upon the alpha’s biceps as he holds onto him as if he were the last thread of his sanity left. He cries out as his cock brushes against the spot, again and again and again—

“Come for me,” Alfred murmurs against his lips, his gaze wild and positively primal as he catches his lips in a kiss so sweet, so chaste, so unlike their wretched desires. _“Come for me, princess.”_

Release strikes him point-blank, overwhelming his senses as Arthur screams his name, thrown head-first into white oblivion. He grasps at his biceps with tired fingers, breathless and still drifting in ecstasy. He falls limp against the alpha, mildly aware of the hands massaging his hips, the lightest caress of lips upon his brow. 

Dimly, he registers the familiar warmth of cum filling him, trickling down his thighs and further staining the sheets, but Arthur finds that he doesn’t mind as he rests against Alfred’s chest, cradled in his arms. He breathes in deep, content to merely lay there in his arms, just for the moment.

He knows he isn’t the first, nor will he be the last, to feel those lips upon his own, to hear those praises whispered upon his skin, to feel those hands worshipping every curve and every plane of his body. He isn’t the first to see the devious smirk upon those very lips which had stolen his breath away, to see the way those bright blue eyes gazed at him with primal desire. He isn’t the first to feel the skipped beats of his heart whenever Alfred looked at him and smiled.

Arthur knows that this is only temporary.

He knows that these are all lies.

It’s routine, after all. Rinse and repeat. 

After a brief while, he shifts, lifting himself up and off of the alpha’s cock, ignoring the way his cum slipped down his legs, the way he felt the emptiness resonate within his very being. Alfred turns away, and Arthur, judging by the sound of the alpha’s footsteps padding against the wooden floor, knows that he’s merely heading into the bathroom. 

It’s not long before he feels those arms wrap around him, silently coercing him to relent once more. Arthur barely even turns his head as those lips meet his, soft and gentle as a washcloth dutifully scrubs away the remains of their activities, as if it were that easy to erase another one of their mistakes. 

He lies beside Alfred, held within his arms as if he were truly his lover, when really, he is merely a ‘friend’ he uses for his benefit. 

They lie in silence, their breathing soft and even as though they were asleep, despite being fully awake and aware. Alfred shifts, then, turning so that his arm draped over Arthur’s abdomen, fingertips caressing the curve of his waist and skating down to the flare of his hip.

“Arthur,” his voice is quiet, lacking his usual exuberance. The omega spares him a glance, already knowing the question which is about to leave his lips.

This is not the first time this has happened, and he knows it all that well. 

“Will you ever leave me?” His fingertips tremble, evident against the sweat-slick skin. 

“Perhaps I will, perhaps I will not," he muses, words lingering and colliding and breaking into thousands of fragments upon the very tip of his tongue, swallowed back into a sore throat. "But it is my choice to make, is it not?"

His gaze pierces through him, bright and ever-clear azure as fingertips brush upon the bruised junction of his neck and shoulder, pressing lightly upon the marks he left there. "Perhaps," he echoes, "but it is merely the illusion of choice."

Arthur turns his head, then, and regards his 'friend' with little more than a barely-there twist of his lips, and he leans forward, curling his arm round the alpha's waist, pressing his body flush against Alfred's own.

“You ought to know, darling, that you would never have come to me otherwise if you ever thought that I would leave," he murmurs, his sigh barely audible beneath the shift of the body against his, the possessive growl he gains from those swollen lips as they whisper sinful promises against his bared neck. And Arthur smiles, languidly stroking the alpha’s hair with gentle fingers. 

“How fickle your trust in me must be if you always doubt my loyalty.”

“I don’t doubt your loyalty,” Alfred corrects him, leaving a ghost of a kiss against the hollow of his throat. “I only wanted to make sure. I’m a possessive man, babe, you know that.”

“I know,” he whispers in reply, and Alfred gives him a grin in return—a grin so bright, blinding him from the harsh reality.

He places a hand on his cheek, resting his forehead against his. “May I kiss you, princess?” 

“You may, _birthday boy,”_ Arthur returns with the slightest beginnings of a bittersweet smile upon his lips. 

_When it comes to you, I can never say no, after all._

**Author's Note:**

> A big, big thank you to Ami V and Ixie for beta-ing this fic. XD
> 
> Thanks so much, you two!


End file.
